Without you, with me
by iajimenez
Summary: ONESHOT! There was not reason to not hate each other a couple hours, it should have been a normal day. A lot of years after the show.


Hi :) this is a traslation of my own fic, called in spanish **Sin ti, conmigo**. My fic was already traslated to french, so I thought It'd be funny do it in english too.

Thanks to my beloved friend Lore for the help :) loveyou dear.

Hope you like it!

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><p><strong>Without you, with me.<strong>

Lisa woke up that morning as every single day. She tried to ignore her clock's alarm and stayed snoozing a couple more minutes, but the thoughts of thousands of things that she must do as dean of medicine, made her get out of bed and a little angry, go to the bathroom. The day was sunny; she could be just in underwear without feeling cold.

She walked to the bathroom still sleepy, so she wet her face with water of the sink and she looked at her in the mirror: her skin still silky, but with new wrinkles that she had to eliminate making them up, harder than a couple of years ago. Her curly and long hair,now some grey hair and, of course, always her pretty smile. She tied up her hair and went into the shower.

-Do you pretend to spend the whole day taking a shower? –House asked her, sitting on the toilet.

-Almost finish –She answered him, with a little smile on her face- What time did you get home?

-Just now. I wanted to find you sleeping to have some fun with you. But you've been faster than me.

-Would you pass me the towel?

-Take it you. I'm feeling lazy now and I don't want to get up.

Cuddy turned her eyes and went out of the shower really wet. She put the towel on her body while House watched her.

-How was the case? –She asked, washing her teeth.

-Nothing interesting.

-Yeah, I imagined it –Cuddy left her toothbrush next to House's blue and old one, and went back to the room.

She walked around the room looking for her clothes. Picked up a picture of her and House kissing each other and left it next to the clock. She put her clothes on, looking House's shoes organized in the corner. The nephrologist went out of the bathroom in that moment.

-You organized your shoes –She commented it, smiling.

-Yeah, better late than never.

Someone knocked at the door. The voice of a teenager girl was listened.

-Mom, can I come in?

-Yes Rach, come in.

Rachel, who is seventeen years old now, came into the room wearing a school uniform.

-How are you feeling mom? –She asked her, sitting next on the bed.

-Excellent –Cuddy stroked her brown hair with sweetness- Did you have breakfast? Do you want me to cook something for you?

-I'm fine; I'm having breakfast at school.

-OK, do you want me take you to school?

-No, thanks. Nick is coming for me –She was talking about her boyfriend.

-Good. Say him hello for me.

-I will –Rachel gave her a sweet kiss on her face and asked her again- Are you sure you're OK?

-Completely sure.

Rachel, not really satisfied, left the room. Cuddy started to make her bed, helped by House.

-House, you hate making the bed.

-I can be a gentleman sometimes, you know?

-I think so –They finished, and Cuddy looked at a blue shirt of House- You would look handsome with that.

-Why do you always say that blue looks fine on me?

-Because of your eyes.

They look at each other. They smile each other. Those were really beautiful smiles.

-It's already late –House reminded her.

-You're right, I almost forgot what day is.

-Almost forgot it? Really?

-Yeah, sometimes I forget it, sometimes I remember it.

-But it's the same every year.

-Exactly. Everything so repetitive, it becomes a boring routine.

Cuddy smiled sweetly.

-Let's go? –House asked her again.

-Yes, let's go.

Cemetery

They walked together on the green and sunny grass of the park. Cuddy wore a hat to protect herself of the sun, and her hand was helding white lilies. House was next to her, just walking.

-What are you going to do tonight? –He asked her.

-I invited Rachel's boyfriend. We're going to see movies.

-Nice mother in law.

-I'm not that, yet… But yeah, I guess I am. And what do you plan to do tonight?

-I don't know, what I always do every day, I suppose.

-I'd like to know what is the thing you always do.

-You will know some day.

They arrived to the place they were looking for. House took her hand and they sit together in front of the tombstone. Cuddy still held the lilies.

-So, here we are –House said, breaking the silence- As every year.

-There are five years already –Cuddy commented, with her eyes in nowhere.

-Five years? Are you sure? That's a lot.

-Completely. Yes, that's a lot.

-And how many years are you pretending to do this?

-Stop this routine?

-Yes.

Cuddy looked at the tombstone.

**RIP**

_**Gregory House  
>1964-2022<strong>_

A little tear fell down on the Cuddy's face. House was still standing in the same place, holding her hand. She looked at him, losing in his blue eyes a few minutes, before break away of him, and told him:

-When I'm ready to let you go.

House smiled and assented. He held her hand again and told her:

-Let me go.

Cuddy held his hand strong and negated twice. She put the lilies on the tombstone and she looked at him again. He didn't smile; he was just looking at her, nothing else. She stroked his hair and told him:

-til the next year, my darling.

-til the next year.

And House disappeared.

Another year had passed. Her fifth year doing exactly the same. Her fifth pretending to have a live that didn't exist anymore.

She got up and walked back to the car. She saw on her finger her wedding ring shining. She couldn't stop thinking that six years ago he was really here, coming with her to see her mother's tombstone. So many times he said her that she shouldn't cry, it was better smile. Every year she tries to do that, but every year was as difficult as the first. The time doesn't do it less hard. Everything is going worse when, every year, he appeared in front of her, the anniversary of his death, and he stays the whole day until she visited his tombstone. He always says her that she must let him go, and then he disappears.

Every year was the same.

Every year, as that day supposed to be. When they should have kissed each other instead of fighting. That shoes should have been a mess, like always did, and not organized by House just to make her angry. He should have worn that pretty shirt that she bought with really good intentions to him, but she asked him to wear it in a bad way. And maybe he helping to make the bed was not really important.

All that bitter things they lived together their last day. They shouldn't have yell, and insult each other. She should have told him how much she loved him more often, maybe he should have forgotten his pride and should have hugged her when everything was wrong.

But nothing of it was like that. That day, a normal warmy day, they started to fight as always. There was not reason to not hate each other a couple hours, it should have been a normal day.

Definitely she shouldn't have let him go angry, she should have stopped him, kiss him and told him that everything was going to be alright.

Probably, he would have stayed and he wouldn't have ignore that red light in the semaphore; he wouldn't have crashed with that truck and died two hours later.

But she didn't stop him. She let him go, let him die.

She didn't pick up the phone one year after the shock. Then, exactly one year after, he appeared. Every morning, the day of his death, he appeared.

Cuddy knew it was a hallucination, but after seeing his smile the first time, she decided to do nothing about it and just wait for the next year. She tried to see him other days, but she couldn't. Her brain was configured to see him just that day.

If she had kissed him…

So, she has to wait again. Another year to see him again, another opportunity to see his smile and his blue eyes.

Maybe one day she could say him she was ready to let him go.

Maybe one day she'd give in that shirt, she'd hold his shoes and she'd throw away that old toothbrush.

And maybe one day she'd let his soul in peace and she'd start to live her real life, without him… without House.

**The End.**

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><p><strong>I'm really not that alone<br>Who did tell you that you were gone?  
><strong>**One is not where the body is  
>you're where they miss you the most. <strong>

**And here I miss you so much.**

**You're still here, without you,  
>with me.<strong>

**Who is with you? if you're not even there..  
><strong>[Realmente no estoy tan solo - Ricardo Arjona]


End file.
